


Cursed With More than Kindness

by MuzzledRavings



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precognition, Pskyer, Rangers, foresight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuzzledRavings/pseuds/MuzzledRavings
Summary: The courier has a secret. She was born with the power of precognition: foresight. The world would call her a psyker if they knew, but they don’t. Kindness becomes a curse when you can see grim futures that you might be able to prevent.
Relationships: Craig Boone/Female Courier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Cursed With More than Kindness

The moment she regained consciousness, her eyes shot open. She immediately regretted it as the bright light overhead stung her eyes. She screwed her eyes shut again as she became aware of the pain. It was everywhere; so bad she didn’t want to move. But her head, her head hurt like nothing she’d felt before. She couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped as she fought back tears.

“You're awake. How about that.” The voice sounded distant and muffled. “Easy now, I know that expression.” A moment later she felt a prick in her arm. She gritted her teeth and bared the pain while she waited for what she assumed was med-x to take effect. Minutes later, the pain eased and she tried to get up. She noticed her arms were stiff and sluggish and she struggled more than she expected.

“Whoa, easy there. Easy!” She felt a hand on each arm help her into a sitting position. “You been out cold a couple of days now.” Days? Everything was foggy and it hurt to think. Her memory was fuzzy as well. “Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings.” She rested her heavy head in her hands and felt the heavy bandages there. “Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”

She looked up from her hands to the old man who sat in the chair beside her bed. Her name? Well, that was easy. “I’m…” She croaked out. “I’m…” Wait, what was her name? It was… It was… “Kali.” She croaked. The sound rumbled around in her head and made the pain worse.

“Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name.” He said with a slight laugh. “I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out. Okay. No sense keeping you in bed anymore. Let's see if we can get you on your feet.”

Kali went to stand but all her muscles protested. She was stiff and could barely keep herself upright. “Can’t.” She finally said in defeat.

“Those thugs sure worked you over; cuts, bruises, broken bones. Not to mention the bullets to the skull.” The doc explained while she focused on staying conscious. “Can you tell me what you remember?”

Kali looked up at him and settled her fuzzy thoughts on one word that described everything. “Cour…ier.” She forced out.

“Killed ya for what you was carrying, eh?” The doc said with a sigh. He then started to carefully remove the bandages around her head. “There we go, let’s take a look at the damage shall we?”

If the bandages were off then they shouldn’t be the reason why her vision on the left side gone. “Doc, my…” The word eluded her so she just gestured to her eye.

“Hmm, looks like the repair didn’t take. The damage to that eye might be permanent.” The doc grabbed a mirror and handed it to her.

Kali took the mirror and looked at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her head had been shaved bald. Her left eye was milky and sickly looking. Beside the damaged eye was a wide line of stitches that went back past her temple. There was another ugly stitched gash higher up. A sudden wave of exhaustion came over her and she couldn’t help but slump over on the bed. She wasn’t sure if she fell asleep or passed out.

It took a week, but Kali walked out of the doctor’s office under her own strength; barely. It’d taken a week of physical rehab just to get her able to walk across the room without falling down. Her left side recovered quickly. The constant, all-encompassing pain had receded to almost nothing and the stiffness was mostly gone. Her right side was a different story. Both arm and leg didn’t want to cooperate with what she told them to do. They were stiff, often numb and sore. The pain in her head was constant. She was taking regular doses of med-x just to function. The pain in her weak arm and leg came and went. During her week confined indoors, Doc Mitchell helped clear her fuzzy head with his odd tests and eventually the fog lifted and she could think clearly again. That bastard in the checkered coat had done a real number on her head.

Decked out in the Vault suit and Pipboy the doctor had provided, Kali stood in the morning sun to get a lay of the land. She held the pistol the doctor had given her in the left hand since she didn’t trust the grip of her right. Slowly and carefully she made her way down the hill to the saloon, paying close attention to the weakness in her right knee. When she got to the bottom of the hill she stopped to catch her breath. She shifted her weight onto her left leg and took in the sights. Movement in the distance caught her attention and she looked toward it to see a securitron like the ones on the Strip headed her way. Only this one had a cowboy on the screen instead of the usual police officer.

“Howdy, pardner! Might I say, you're looking fit as a fiddle!” The cheery cowboy greeted her as it rolled up to her.

Kali drew her brows down in concentration. Doc Mitchell had told her the town’s resident robot had pulled her from her grave. “Thanks.” She settled on.

“Don't mention it! I'm always ready to lend a helping hand to a stranger in need.” The robot replied happily.

Kali just forced a smile and nodded. She gave a small wave to the robot and headed toward the saloon. As she approached she saw an old fence out behind the building with glass bottles lined up on it. After a moment of consideration, she headed for the fence. She got to the fence and took ten paces away from it, then she turned to face it. Carefully, she tried to pass the 9mm pistol to her right hand. It took several tries to get her right hand to properly grip the pistol; her fingers were still stiff. She stretched and flex her hand for a couple minutes and eventually could decently grip the weapon. Next she tried aiming. One handed she barely had the strength to hold the pistol up and it swayed dangerous. She shifted her stance and brought her left hand up to support her right. It was a little awkward, her left hand usually just steadied the pistol, now it had to also support the pistol. Since she was in position she fired off a few shots. The first shot missed. She compensated and managed to hit with the next. She squeezed off a few more shots, noting the stiffness of the trigger and the stiffness in her fingers made the trigger difficult to pull.

“Here. Try this.”

Kali glanced over and saw a woman in leather armor hold a varmint rifle out to her. She nodded and traded the pistol for the rifle. The rifle was easier to hold but it was still difficult to pull the trigger. After a few shots, Kali went to hand the rifle back.

“Naw, keep it.” The woman said and then held out the pistol. “This too.”

Kali’s brows drew down at the offer but eventually she shrugged and took both weapons. “Thanks.” She mumbled.

“The name’s Sunny Smiles. And you are…?”

“Kali.”

Kali stayed in town another week. Everyday she’d scavenge going a little further each day. Every night she’d spend in one of the vacant houses. Her scavenging paid off and eventually she put together enough gear to get back on the road. She was in no hurry. Her week of convalescence had left her way behind her quarry. But she knew where to find Great Khans and she thought the man in the checkered coat might be from the Strip. Her goal was to head there and try to find him.

After two weeks, Kali finally left Goodsprings and headed south. Her injuries were mostly healed and her arm and leg were only a little stiff. The pain in her head was usually nothing more than a dull throbbing. It flared up now and then but was mostly tolerable. She’d also finally adapted to the loss of her vision in her left eye. She didn’t like that she was basically blind to her surrounding when she was looking down a scope but she was grateful she could still look down a scope.

She left town in solid boots and a pair of old jeans with a light shirt, jacket and a cowboy hat over a nearly bald scalp. Over her shoulder was a hunting rifle and she had the 9mm Doc Mitchell had given her in a holster on her hip. She also had a combat knife and brass knuckles. In her pack was food, water, ammo, a chunk of flint and a small pot.

Kali decided she would follow the road since it would be easy terrain and a pretty straight route. She headed down the road and out of town. Around midmorning she saw a building in the distance where the road joined the highway. She pulled her rifle off her shoulder just in case. When she was close, a male voice called out to her.

“Hey! Wastelander! You gotta pay -!” He was cut off by a bullet in the chest. Kali heard running and took aim at the second Powder Ganger who rushed out of the building. He went to grab a stick of dynamite off his waist. As he lit the fuse she fired. She aimed low. Dynamite is shock sensitive. Her bullet hit one of the dynamite sticks still in his belt and set it off. The result was messy. Even at her distance, Kali felt some of the blood spatter. After looting the building, she continued south.

Boone was exhausted and bored. He was standing in the dinosaur’s mouth through another long and uneventful night. He hadn’t done a damn thing since he started his shift hours ago. He leaned against the wall beside his rifle and let out a long sigh. He needed a drink. After a few minutes of leaning, he caught his head bobbing and immediately stood back up straight, scanning the desert as he did. Nothing.

He had no idea what time it was. Late, he guessed, or maybe early? Now was about the point in the night where he wished he still had his NCR issued wristwatch. One of the benefits of First Recon had been access to equipment beyond what was standard issue. He’d considered buying one after he left the army but tech of any kind was expensive. Even simple tech like that. So, for what seemed like the thousandth time, he analyzed his surroundings, the position of the moon and stars, his sobriety and hunger and the subtly rising temperature. 3:37am was his guess. Only halfway through his shift.

He didn’t know how he could still tolerate doing this job. It’s not like he had anything he wanted to protect anymore. But the job provided caps and caps could buy food and alcohol. And he owed someone in this town a bullet.

As if on cue, a shot rang out in the night. Boone grabbed his rifle after a quick survey of the horizon and pulled the butt of the gun to his shoulder in a second. He looked down the scope toward the movement. There in the distance, way off to the south, was a person. They were standing tall in a jacket and cowboy hat with a hunting rifle up and aimed east. After a few seconds another shot echoed off the hills and Boone scanned along the stranger’s line of sight. Way off in the distance nearing the maximum distance he could see with his scope he saw two shadows on the sand. He strained to decipher what they were then realized they were bodies. _Legion_ bodies. He checked the area again. When his sights fell back on the stranger he saw their rifle was down and they were walking toward the bodies. He watched them loot the bodies then turn and start walking toward the dinosaur.

Boone kept his eyes moving; searching the desert before him for any threats and scanning around the stranger periodically. As they got closer, he got a better look at them. They were tall and lithe but between the duster and the hat he couldn’t get a better read on the person. He did make note of two interesting things. First they were wearing a Pip-Boy, a _really_ expensive piece of old world tech that no small amount of people would kill for. Second, they had a slight limp to the right. Eventually, they got close enough to pass out of his line of sight but he still couldn’t tell if the stranger was a man or a woman. He guessed a man. Women rarely travelled the desert alone.

A few hours went by and the sky had just started to lighten when he heard footsteps on the stairs behind him. He was on guard when the door opened, so he was ready and quickly grabbed the knob then viscously pulled the door open. He shifted his rifle and launched the butt toward the person in the doorway. They dodged out of the way of the incoming strike and grabbed hold of the rifle. A quick shift brought them into the dinosaur’s mouth and face to face with Boone. One piercing blue eye and one hazy unfocused blue eye stared back at him in a clearly feminine visage. Not the Legion then. This was a fight he intended to win either way. She had snuck up on him after all. He tried to use his brute strength to overpower her. She slid her hands along the barrel and stock of his rifle and brought them together over the firing mechanism. He used the opportunity to try to strike her with the butt again. As he turned the gun, he hear a distinctive click and saw a glint of metal in the air between them. She dodged his strike and he used the opportunity to pull his rifle to his shoulder and aim it at her chest. She raised her hands in sarcastic surrender and showed off his mag in one hand and his once chambered round in the other. Boone’s eyes flashed between her hands and then looked down at his unloaded rifle incredulously. When he looked back up at her she had a vicious smirk on her face. It was only then he realized the woman was the stranger he’d seen earlier.

“Not the Legion then.” He croaked from a dry throat. It felt weird to speak. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks. The woman shook her head briskly, once. “Why are you here?”

Kali eyed the sniper carefully; sharp features, cleft chin, surprisingly pale skin for a resident of the Mojave. She went to speak when she felt a white hot spike of pain in the left side of her head. Barely keeping her footing she staggered forward and brought the hand with the sniper’s bullet up to her head.

Suddenly she wasn’t in the dinosaur anymore. She was in a room, dimly lit by light streaming in through the single boarded up window. There was a single large bed and kitchen table with two chairs around it. At the table, sat the man. There were a dozen empty bottles on the table as well as something else. Something that caught the light. She recognized what it was when he picked it up; a pistol. He stared at the pistol for a long time before he put the barrel under his chin. He whispered something, then pulled the trigger and in a flash of light she was back in the dinosaur.

As her eyes came back into focus she saw the sniper was looking at her harshly. “What did you say?” She asked gruffly, dropping her hand from her face and biting back against the pain in her head.

“I asked why you’re here.” He repeated angrily.

“You’re the only one awake.” She growled low in response. “Killed a couple Legionaries outside town. They after you?”

“Maybe.” He said as he eased up on his rifle a bit.

Kali took the hint and lowered her hands but kept them in full view. She looked him over head to toe, eyes lingering on his red beret. Red berets meant First Recon snipers. He was potentially a better shot than her. “Nothing new.” She replied with a shrug. “Truce?” She added after a moment then held his ammo out to him.

Boone eyed the woman carefully before slightly nodding. “Truce.” He said and shouldered his rifle so he could take the ammo. As he fit the bullet back into the magazine the stranger stepped up beside him to look out the dinosaur’s mouth.

“Quiet post.” Kali said as she scanned the horizon.

“Usually.” Boone grunted.

“Too much time to think.” Kali prompted, still thinking about what she saw.

Boone just grunted a reply.

Kali didn’t really know what to say so she leaned a shoulder against the wall and looked out into the desert. After several minutes of not thinking of anything to say, she stood back up straight. “Thanks for watching my back.” She said with a nod as she turned to leave.

“Wait, you’re new in town…” The sniper began.

Kali sat on the bed in her newly rented room with her head in her hands. Her head hurt like hell. When her Sight triggered in the dinosaur her knees had gone weak from the pain. Now, she was dealing with residual pain. This was the first time her Sight had triggered since she was shot in the head. It never hurt before. She considered what she’d seen, it made sense now that the sniper had asked her to find the person who sold his wife to slavers. She glanced at the red beret on the table through her fingers. She couldn’t say no. Growing up in a gilded cage had taught her the value of freedom and time fighting the Legion had taught her the horrors of true slavery. She would help him after she tried to get some sleep.


End file.
